


In which the Grand Highblood has a massive fucking crush and has no idea what to do about it.

by narcissisticSpaghetti



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:39:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narcissisticSpaghetti/pseuds/narcissisticSpaghetti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are the Grand Highblood, First Laughsassin of the Alternian empire, the highest of the high under the Empress herself. You rule through fear and influence, you are the monster that smart little wrigglers have nightmares about. You are the most terrifying thing in the Universe. Nothing scares you.<br/>Except the way you feel when she walks in and you instantly know exactly who it is, and just how powerfully you feel drawn to her.<br/>And you love it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which the Grand Highblood has a massive fucking crush and has no idea what to do about it.

You have never been a fan of these boring dances. They are meaningless parties thrown together for the amusement of the empress and serve no further purpose than to humiliate any poor bulgemuncher of any importance that has never bothered to learn to dance.

Unfortunately, this includes you. You are a poor bulgemuncher who never bothered to learn to dance. Though you are far from either of those things you still feel silly, watching over the swirling dance floor full of stuck-up blues and kiss-ass lowbloods. They are all trying to impress those they deem important with fancy dance moves and clever tricks, smiles and colorful make up.

They are all ugly.

They are all beautiful.

They are ugly in their deceit, their delicious lies of grandeur hang around them in a bittersweet aroma, like their thick perfumes, only far more subtle. And a lot more intoxicating.

They move, so cold and calculated it’s not natural. It’s not graceful, it’s robotic, and it’s sickening just how much smugness they can pack into the tiniest of toe shifts or a brand new movement added into an already far too complicated dance.

You feel compelled to tell them just how transparent their lies are by ripping them to sheds and showing them their own insides as plainly as you see them. You feel compelled to take them apart; warm, fresh machines to be pulled to pieces and examined under bright light. Fascinating yet worthless corpses that you are entitled to explore and use as you see fit.

Not here, not in public. The Empress would be quite furious that you had ruined her little wriggler party with the pretty colors and plastic smiles. She would hate for you to break one of her precious dolls in front of her. She would be delighted to let you have one later, but the paperwork of a public spectacle is not her favorite thing to do. So you don’t. But oh how you want to.

And then in She walks.

Struts, more like, her round little hips sway so tantalizingly, her tiny little red heels click faintly as she makes her way into the large colorful room and over towards the wall opposite you. She doesn’t do it purposefully, but she moves with just enough power and grace to catch your eye and hold it forever. Since the first time you laid eyes on her, really looked at her sweeps back, she has held your attention firmly and permanently and you’re not sure if you are disgusted or endlessly pleased.

At first she was just another troll, a harmless, unimportant little shit attempting to make her way into the Legislacerators and hardly important at the time. But she learned fast and learned well, and was quickly labeled as a prodigy and you were loathe to admit but when her file crossed your lap you were fairly impressed.

It still took you another three perigees to actually care. She was still unimportant and not worth your time.

And when you saw her she took your breath away.

 

You have been working as the first Laughsassin for sweeps already and you have made quite a name for yourself. You take pride in the gruesome and violent things you have done for your church, the new coats of color on the walls and the slimy sweet scent of blood wherever you walk. But in your first few days you were reminded about the long-standing partnership between the Law and the Church and you had grimaced at the messenger.

When you first took a good look at her was half a perigee after you had extended a letter to the Legislacerators stating you were willing to employ one of their trainees. She arrived promptly on the promised date and stood on the bridge of your ship as you left your quarters that evening. She was truly a sight to behold. You knew instantly she would be a welcome addition to your fleet.

You were right.

But there was something else, some other strange knowing sensation you could never shake when you think of her. A tugging in your gut you have never experienced as you gaze at her from across the room and will her closer to you.

You look to the dancers again in an attempt to distract, their mechanical grace something you want to pull apart and examine. Their colorful faces and wide variety of blood castes a delightful buffet of entertainment and taste. They are so pretty, done up like porcelain dolls. If only you could smash one against the floor and see if it had the same effect.

You have looked at them all like this all of your life. They are toys, playthings, things to cajole and handle and figure out how they work.

But your eyes are inevitably pulled back to her and you are baffled at the automatic difference in thought process. You still want to examine her, figure out how she works, but you do not want to pull her apart. You want to leave her in one piece.

You want to touch her, feel her, find all her little functioning spots and abuse them. You want to find what makes what happen and though others have always been your favorite playthings, she is the first one you want to play fair with. You want her to touch you in return.

And that is new, exhilarating, and you want it more than you have ever wanted anything before.

You are the Grand Highblood, First Laughsassin of the Alternian empire, the highest of the high under the Empress herself. You rule through fear and influence, you are the monster that smart little wrigglers have nightmares about. You are the most terrifying thing in the Universe. Nothing scares you.

Except the way you feel when she walks in and you instantly know exactly who it is, and just how powerfully you feel drawn to her.

And you love it.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I am so tired right now. If you see any misspellings or problems or if you see something you think I should fix let me know, I'll get around to it when I'm not about to fall asleep at the keyboard. Also if you can help me name this something a little less ridiculously stupid that would be lovely.  
> This was written at the request of my matesprite, (I have a GHB/Summoner one to do for him too,) and I will take other requests if you feel like asking.


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